So last weekend, we were lucky enough to be offered a hotel room in London for Cybermummy weekend. The hubby and I, after several long months apart, decided to have a quiet night on the first night, and headed to our hotel, the Thistle in Kensington Gardens, early on the Friday afternoon.

First impressions, I have to say, were slightly disappointing. The hotel is on Bayswater Road (an easy walk from Queensway Tube on the central line) and as soon as you glimpse the sign, all you see is a big petrol station. Happily, turning down the side street to the actual entrance, it just got better and better.

First off, it’s had a huge refurbishment, in the process elevating this fab little gem from a 3* to a 4*. The lovely Customer Relations Manager met us at the (sparkly) lifts and told us all about it. He also told us that we’d been upgraded to a suite. RESULT!

Those sparkly lifts caused quite a lot of hilarity. Firstly, they were teeny. On the sign it said you could fit 8 people, but honestly – we got stuck in there with a couple of sweaty German people and it was not pleasant. I should imagine 8 people in there would be akin to one of those Guinness record breaking ‘squeezing people into a Mini Cooper’ attempts. The other problem was that we were singularly useless at putting our room key in the slot and then pressing the button. Happily, the Concierge seemed to be well used to people going down instead of up and arriving in his lobby. He swiftly sorted out our card problems and send us soaring to the 7th floor.

Our suite was amazing, with a lovely lounge area complete with trendy grey wool sofas…

…a sparkly new bathroom:

and a bed as big as a bouncy castle (happily, as later, when the husband was all ‘tired and emotional’ after our two bottles of wine and conked out in an ungainly starfish position – I still had tons of room across the other side).

The views over Hyde Park were stunning (they even left us a little pair of binoculars so we could check out the Albert Hall and the Gherkin):

and as it was such a lovely evening, we headed out for a gorgeous walk – you’d never even know you were in the middle of London!

Obviously wishing to test the place as thoroughly as possible for you, my loyal reader, we then decided to check out the bar:

We weren’t disappointed. Our lovely waitress was not only chatty and friendly, she kept us topped up with gin and peanuts and told us a couple of nice places to try for drinks and dinner, all within easy walking distance of the hotel. Mind you, the menu looked so nice that we almost didn’t bother going out at all.

A short stroll took us to bustling Bayswater and a plethora of pubs, restaurants and bars. A packed Italian restaurant caught our eye and we feasted on beautifully tender salt and pepper squid, a lush rocket, tomato and avocado salad, and then huge prawns in a spicy tomato sauce and crispy fritto misto. Then came the two bottles of wine, the stagger home and the inevitable collapse.

The absolute selling point of the Thistle, Kensington Gardens, forgetting for a moment the beautiful decor and the great location, is the staff: from the amazingly helpful Concierge who helped me find a route home dodging around central line closures on the Sunday morning, not forgetting the polite and friendly breakfast staff who rushed to make me an omelette then checked twice to make sure I was enjoying it, to the lovely receptionists and the housekeeping staff who brought chocolates and wished us sweet dreams.

From Tuesday 5th July, Thistle launches its national summer deal, offering guests an extra 30% off room-only stays with the option to add breakfast for only £10 extra. The offer runs across all Thistle’s 33 UK hotels. To book, and for more hotel package deals available, visit www.thistle.com/summer. Alternatively, call: 0871 971 1831

Thanks so much to Thistle Hotels for our fabulous break, and to everyone at Kensington Gardens for making us so welcome.

So Saturday saw me up really bright and early driving two very grogging teenagers down to Goodwood (we were up at 6am – alien territory for a teen).

We pinched English Grandma’s satnav and got down there really easily. As we wandered down from the car park, a golf buggy ambled past us. I looked up to find myself face to face with Lewis Hamilton. He smiled at me and I smiled back, not really placing the face…

‘Look behind us!’, I whispered urgently at the fellas, ‘it’s… erm… y’know, that one that’s not Jensen”

The boys were both engrossed looking at Ken Block’s car and didn’t have a clue what I was on about. As I bumbled about trying to find the name in my old and addled brain, he was getting away! ‘You know! The Santander one!’. Sadly, by the time they’d looked, they could only see a retreating golf buggy and the back of some bloke’s head in a baseball cap. They will NEVER believe me and henceforth Goodwood will always be the day where Mum reckons she saw Lewis but nobody else did.

Still, onwards and upwards. It’s not the first time my teenagers have thought I was mental. Goodwood is THE place to be if you love cars and bikes. We were really lucky to be the guests of SEAT and headed to their fabulous hospitality area where we were welcomed in quite spectacular style by their resident computer graffiti artist:

The fellas checked in and soon we were heading over to the racecourse where the SEAT Young Driver Experience was set up. Kids from 11 to 16 get to have a go in an awesome fleet of specially adapted SEAT Ibizas. The Death Wish Child looked scarily comfortable behind the wheel:

… as did his brother who has just one *gulp* year left, before he’s learning for real:

After they’d finished their lessons, we watched quite a bit of this:

Did quite a bit of this:

Did plenty of oohing and aahing at the Red Arrows’ fantastic display:

And even bumped into a few old friends:

What a great day out! Thanks so much to everyone at SEAT for making us so welcome (and sorry that the Death Wish Child drank so much of your Coke. What can I say? The boy is a bucket).

PS: And Lewis? If you’re reading this? We had a moment, didn’t we? Just admit it.

The Death Wish Dude is MAD about motorbikes. It must be something about the danger, I would wager. He’s one of those bike nerds who can tell you the make of each motorbike as it whizzes past you on the motorway. He was reeeeally disappointed, then, when he learned that our lovely friend Lu over at Family Affairs was giving away tickets for the AirAsia MotoGP 2011 at Silverstone this weekend. ‘Why can’t we fly over? Please can we? PLEASE? Valentino Rossi, Mum, Valentino Rossi!’ Sadly it’s a no no. And I’m even more disappointed because I’ve now found out tons more information about motorsport’s hottest weekend.

1. There’s more than just bikes.

Who knew? There are stunt shows and even aerobatic displays (oh and for our gentlemen friends, the gorgeous Air Asia stewardesses will be strutting their stuff too *cough*). You can even unwind after the race with a Thai massage (no, not from the stewardesses, sorry).

2. There’s FOOD!

Visit the AirAsia booth and you can ‘Experience AirAsia’ – from Chinese lion dancers to henna painting from India and *gasp* traditional cooking demos and tasting from the incredible Malaysia Kitchen.

3. You can meet the team!

The riders will be at the Air Asia booth for a special signing session on Saturday at 3.30pm (don’t tell the Death Wish One).

4. You can win stuff.

There will be opportunities to win exciting prizes including free flights to Kuala Lumpur and beyond.

Gutted. Absolutely gutted. So if you’re off to the races this weekend, have a great time, and if you’ve nothing planned, head along to Silverstone. It sounds like an awesome weekend.

For more info check out Silverstone.co.uk. The AirAsia booth is open from 8am Saturday and Sunday.

I so wish there was some wizardy technology that could have captured the smell of this place: utterly intoxicating… smoky frankincense… dried roses… spicy dried limes… I bought as much as I could possibly fit in my suitcase from the baskets and sacks of mysterious, scented and dried goodies…

There were a few surprises too…

but mostly the produce was traditional. There are those dried limes again:

So after a very silly evening spent avoiding the wrath of the scary landlady, sniggering and drinking gin in a tin, fellow blogging buddy Laura and I were collected by lovely A from Yeo Valley and transported in the Landrover of Death to the gorgeous Organic Gardens at Holt Farm, well, the tea room, to be more precise.

I LOVE the tea room at Holt Farm. I big puffy heart it. It’s just so deliciously quirky and everything’s not quite what it seems. For example, check out the lights:

and look at this lovely comfy sofa looking out onto the garden. I could while away several happy hours (or possibly days) perched here with a paper…

…and some of their lovely fruity pastries:

…just admiring the view… and the gnomage!

So a bit of background, then: I guess you could say that Holt Farm was the very starting point of Yeo Valley Organics. Roger and Mary Mead first began making their yogurts on the kitchen table there in the 1970s, and although Yeo Valley is now much bigger, the business still runs from the area, with their son Tim and other family members and staff still farming and milking their cows in the gorgeous Somerset countryside. When Tim, now Yeo Valley’s Director, and his wife Sarah inherited Holt Farm from Tim’s parents some 20 years ago, Sarah really threw herself into making the garden something special. Fast forward to today, and it’s one of the very few organically certified ornamental gardens in the country.

Seeing as I’d brought the rain with me from Ireland, we decided to stay inside and have a chat first. We talked about yogurts and cheese and compote (did you know Yeo Valley make amazing fruit compotes – I reckon they should shout about it a bit more, but they’re a reserved bunch) and then, before we knew it, it was time for lunch:

and then seeing as we were there and it would have been rude not to – we had to have a little tasting sesh as well:

The greedy amongst you will have zeroed in on the West Country Fudge flavour, which was so gorgeous that there was absolutely no way I was just taking a little bit on the tasting spoon and passing it on. No way at all. We also tasted a really very zingy Passion Fruit flavour as well, and to save any ‘lemon curduments’, we let Laura have all the Lemon Curd flavour. She starts growling if you take it off her.

Other surprises were some really very nice ice creams and frozen yogurts:

… the latter having much less fat than traditional ice creams, but with no artificial taste and a lovely creamy flavour. My favourite was the strawberry one. Yum.

And then finally the sun came out, and full up from all that yoghurt, we were happy to pootle around the garden with the lovely Sarah for company and hear all about the amazing garden. Holt Farm is run as a ‘closed system’, which means they produce their own compost, loam and fertiliser and as much as possible they don’t buy in plants, but propagate their own.

The whole garden has an amazing contemporary feel, with some really tasteful local artwork and really creative planting:

The farmhouse itself looks amazeballs (I’d love to have a shufty inside) with gorgeous views across Blagdon Lake…

I would have shown you a much better picture of the ‘to die for’ views only I came across one of the things at Holt Farm that I don’t covet, and that’s a very disagreeable rooster, who chased me away before I could take any more pictures. Apart from that bird, though, I had a great time.

Very many thanks, as always, to the lovely chaps at Yeo Valley for entertaining us so well (we’ll just forget about the rooster, shall we?). I just love them. Not just because they’re all about sustainability and living off the land and all that organic stuff, but because they’re so genuine – farmers, doing what they do best, and doing it well.

So Dubai, then. What springs to mind when you think of the place? For most of us I’d guess it’s that whole millionaire’s playground thing: fast cars, enormous luxury malls… oh and maybe you’d also worry about covering yourself up? Being arrested for kissing in the street?

Well that was more or less my view anyway. And I’m happy to admit that I couldn’t have been more wrong. I didn’t wear any of the stuff I’d packed to cover myself up, and the people are absolutely lovely – kind, respectful and courteous. And yes, you can hold hands (it’s pretty common for male friends to hold hands) and kiss your kids in the street, or your other half, with no problem at all. Real, full-on Public Displays of Affection (PDAs) would be considered pretty rude, but I don’t think many people anywhere would really want to pass people on the street full-on snogging would they? The Emirati are a peaceful, respectful bunch – they encourage tolerance (I was surprised to hear that every religion is encouraged here – you’ll find Hindu temples, Christian churches, everything you can think of) and we were welcomed inside the Jumeirah Mosque and encouraged to ask any questions we wanted (more of this later).

So what did we get up to? We had a packed schedule – we visited quite a few different hotels and apartments, all at different budgets – we went to a mosque, to an aquarium… an ice rink… on a desert jeep safari… an amazing variety. I really wanted to approach the trip with a view to bringing my family.

At the risk of boring the pants off you all, I thought I’d split this into sections. Here’s what I discovered:

Hotels

We visited the whole gamut of accommodation, from self catering apartments to the amazing luxury of the Burj Al Arab (the one shaped like a sail).

Our hotel was at the Madinat Jumeirah – an enormous resort containing two hotels, villas, tons of restaurants, a souk and masses more. It’s all linked together by an amazing waterway system so you can get everywhere you like by just hailing an Abra (water taxi). We stayed in the Mina A’Salam – a beautiful boutique hotel with views over the Burj Al Arab.

Check out my room!

Here’s the view from my balcony:

There’s a great kids’ club there – with all-day facilities should you wish to leave your little ones. Their attention to safety is amazing – we counted three lifeguards around the baby pool alone:

They’re also in the process of building a climbing wall and a kids’ gym too.

This fabulous, wave-shaped hotel would be a great choice for anyone with school-aged kids, as the hotel is attached to the Wild Wadi water park and guests get free access (you can also access the water park from the Jumeirah Madinat by hailing one of the golf buggies that take people around the resorts). They’ve also got loads of amazing themed restaurants (wild west dining, anyone?) and the manager, Margaret Paul, was very keen to tell me that they’re not just a ‘chicken nuggets and chips’ kind of place (although of course you’ll find that on the menu too!).

This is the view from one of the rooms at the Jumeirah Beach overlooking the Wild Wadi water park – how cool is that?!

If you fancy going self-catering, a great affordable (but still luxe) option is to head to the Oasis Beach Tower (right next to Frankie’s – Marco Pierre White and Frankie Dettori’s joint venture restaurant) in the Jumeirah Beach area, very close to the lovely Dubai Marina area:

The apartments are huge, with two, three, or even four big bedrooms (each with a bathroom), a really well appointed kitchen (you can have a chef come in and cook for you if you’re feeling lazy – or of course there’s the miriad restaurants in the marina area):

We ate in the Thyme Mediterranean restaurant in the tower, and I have to say it was one of my favourite meals – a lovely mezze starter with tons of lovely Arabian bread to dip in was followed by a huge slab of beef from the carvery:

We all loved the creamy cabbage accompaniment so much that we had to ask the chef for the recipe, and the roasted herby pumpkin was just delicious. Finished off with a gooey chocolate fondant, we waddled out of the place replete and delighted. I’d go back tomorrow.

Of course if you want luxe luxe, then look no further than the beautiful, spectacular, amazing Burj Al Arab. Designed to look like the sail of a dow, it is luxe on such a major scale that some journalists have declared it 7 star (although they’re far too polite to actually say that themselves). We felt like such interlopers looking around – it was amazing. Each suite is a duplex, with living accommodation on one floor:

…and then your own stairs up to the bedrooms above:

This is the master suite:

and for the kids…

Check out the bathroom:

And oh, the food… these were only nibbles:

Nothing is too much trouble and the service is bloody amazing.

I won’t bore you with all my photos, but if you do fancy having a look, they’re on my Facebook page: www.facebook.com/englishmumdotcom

Onwards and upwards, then, the ovenbus led us merrily on to Disney’s Hollywood studios:

Hollywood Studios

Rock’n’Rollercoaster

The Tower of Terror

High School Musical street celebration

Hollywood Studios street scene

American Idol

The Magic Kingdom

Giant Toy Story Characters at Pixar Place

‘Move it, Shake it, Celebrate it’ street parade

Mr Incredible

It’s a Small World

The Wishes fireworks display

Mickey’s Spectromagic

Mickey’s Spectromagic

…where I chose the moment two seconds before we rocketed off into hyperspace to mention to Lovely Disney PR Lady/ Sarah/Mary Poppins that I’d actually never been on a rollercoaster before. Her sweet little face was an instant terrified picture of a PR nightmare and she was probably playing scenes of vomiting bloggers over and over in her mind. No matter, I clutched doggedly onto Linda‘s arm (it’s okay, the nail marks have faded now), and we merrily screamed our way around ridiculous bends and gurned as the bloody thing chucked us upside down and basically tried to force our dinner out of us.

Therapy over (we decided that every mental hospital should have a rollercoaster – ain’t no getting depressed when you’re being hurled around at Mach 5), it was on to Pixar Place and a go on the awesome Toy Story Midway Mania – a nutty shoot-em-up game where all sorts of things seem to come at you in 3D (and yes, Bugs, it does strangely make you want to shout DIE M*THERF*CKERS, DIE!’, even when seated next to pigtailed 6 year olds – even gentle Alice‘s face was scrunched in concentration as she tried to murder the little aliens). Calming ourselves down, then, we headed off for a nice little Muppet 3D show. This was great fun and even had the old guys up in the theatre box commenting on the performance – watch out for the Swedish Chef appearing at the back of the theatre too!

No getting away from it, it was finally time, much to Erica‘s complete horror, to check out the Tower of Terror. And after several ‘no I can’t/yes I can/ no I really can’t’ conversations with herself, which ended about half a minute after she got on, we spent another happy ten minutes being hurled about again – this time up and down in the broken lift of the old Twilight Zone hotel, cackling and screaming like a bunch of cat women off the Simpsons. Cracking.

After dinner at the Brown Derby, we enjoyed a very real American Idol Experience, merrily yaying and booing (the yaying was for a UK contestant – somewhat bewildered when 7 random women in the third row got up and clapped her performance – and the booing was for the dreadful Simon Cowell-alike) along with the other 993 enthusiastic audience members. Stopping off for mojitos, crap Craig, the cocktail waiter made us late for the showing of Fantasmic and you know the rest.

The next day saw a hungover and somewhat shambolic pack of bloggers head to the spa for a little detoxing, then on to The Magic Kingdom, where after watching the ridiculously energetic High School Musical 3 concert, we got our hands in by killing lots of stuff with lasers on Buzz Lightyear’s Laser Blaster (not a patch on Midway Mania, but still good fun). Then we stood and frazzled in the sun and watched the ‘Move It, Shake It, Celebrate It’ parade. Again, I defy anyone not to enjoy this sort of stuff – the sun’s shining – everyone’s dancing and laughing – it’s absolutely full of energy and fun. Lulu danced with Donald (it’s his fluffy bum, apparently), Jane and I did the mashed potato and even Mr Incredible got in on the act by flexing his considerable pecs for us. Next came Peter Pan’s Flight, a lovely, more sedate glide across a miniature London and beyond, and a go on Disney’s first ever ride, It’s a Small World, which I actually found quite strangely sinister and Bride of Chucky-like, but very nice, nontheless. In the evening, the beautiful ‘Wishes’ fireworks rounded off the evening , along with an alarming ‘elbows out’ battle across a packed park to a very nice VIP seating area to watch the brightly lit Spectromagic parade. No mojitos (The Magic Kingdom is alcohol free), but all in all, pretty darn magical. Next up, it’s the Animal Kingdom and Epcot. Don’t go away!

So diverting my attention from the food for a moment, I thought I’d give you a little taster of what we, the intrepid Disney 7, put ourselves through just so we could report back to you about what it’s like to experience Walt Disney World at close quarters. See, the things we do for you?

Typhoon Lagoon

Crush’n’Gusher

Storm slides

Castaway Creek

Surf pool

Shark reef

Ketchakiddee Creek

Surf pool beach

The Bibbidi Bobbidi Boutique

Characters in Flight

Typhoon Lagoon

First up, then, was the colossal watery infinity that is Typhoon Lagoon. Stepping, bleary eyed and jet-lagged out of the inferno-bus, we were met by our guide – whose name, very rudely, escapes me, but who was undoubtedly one of the most Disneyfied people we met on our trip. She was ridiculously, madly, rabidly in love with her job and I have to say, her enthusiasm was pretty infectious. First we had a good look (from a dry, fully-clothed perspective) at the Crush ‘n’ Gusher, the water roller coaster. Second up was Humunga Cowabunga. This is for you if you wish to be hurled at speeds of up to 40mph down a triple set of slides whilst achieving the biggest swimsuit-wedgie known to civilisation. The more sedate amongst us can grab an inflatable ring and spend a happy hour bobbing mindlessly around Castaway Creek (‘many a parent lost there, I can tell you’, said our guide), a lovely river which bimbles gently around the perimeter of the park, and which looked so relaxing we all nearly made a run for it and threw ourselves in. And there was still time to ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ and the 2.75 million gallon wave pool, complete with huge, explosive wave every 90 seconds for the daredevils amongst us (full learn-to-surf programme available – blonde, shaggy hair optional). There’s an amazing opportunity to snorkel with some real, live sharks on the shark-reef – a sunken tanker complete with its own wildlife and for the smalls, there’s even a little tiddler area, Ketchakiddee Creek, with little slides, rafts and bubbling jets and Gangplank Falls – a family raft slide. Oh, and those buckets of ice cream? The ones with the free spade? They’re $10. Mine’s a large one.

Downtown Disney

I’m not sure if Downtown Disney is actually a resort/park in its own right, but it really is a lovely place and not to be missed. Sadly, our Characters in Flight ride (the new Disney hot air balloon) was cancelled due to strong winds, but we headed off to gawp at the little princesses in the Bibbidi Bobbidi Boutique and make silly noises at teeny little baby clothes in the countless Disney shops (obviously, we spent a considerable time in the Disney kitchen shop, Mickey’s Pantry. While you’re there, don’t forget to visit Disney Design-A-Tee where you can customise your very own Disney t-shirt (I made an Englishmum.com one, obviously). There are loads of restaurants here (and Raglan Road Irish Pub too, I noticed), and we had a fabulous cob salad in the Earl of Sandwich, but hey, if you fancy a Macs, you’ll find that here too. My oldest nerd would have killed to get to DisneyQuest: five floors of interactive rides and games, and a lot of us would definitely have loved La Nouba, an amazing live act by Cirque du Soleil. Sadly, time beat us and we were off again, this time to Hollywood Studios: the Rock’n’Rollercoaster, the Towerrrrr of Terrorrrrr and Craig, the rubbish cocktail waiter. Tune in, if you’re still awake, for my next riveting instalment!

Okly dokly then. Back to Disney, where day 3 dawned bright and sparkly and found us tootling off to the Disney Boardwalk to have al-fresco breakfast at Spoodles. Rather lush Mediterranean fare can be found at this friendly establishment (hearing me chortling about hidden Mickeys, the staff very kindly presented me with my very own blue Mickey pin – I was choked, I can tell you). We were presented with loads of free taster plates, such as the lovely flatbreads (think thin pizza with lovely fresh toppings), and fruit platters, but eventually discounting the French toast and the full cooked breakfast, I gamely forced down a veritable MOUNTAIN of pancakes, with crispy bacon and maple syrup:

Off in the bloggerbus, then, to the amazingly beautiful Disney Grand Floridian. Modelled on the famous Chateau Marmont (Marilyn Monroe’s fave hangout, doncherknow). Driving up to this absolutely amazing resort, we were stunned into uncharacteristic silence (I wrote simply ‘wow’ in my notebook):

The Floridian is surrounded by a beautiful man-made lake, nestling across from the eye-watering white sand beach (guests can take out one of the resort speedboats if they feel the need for some privacy – no, really):

The spa is not only jaw-droppingly beautiful, but has a wide range of wondrous treatments as well as a gym if you absolutely insist on getting sweaty when you should be relaxing:

…where, having regaled (and slightly nauseated) each other with various motley spa stories (I shared the deeply in-depth double-boob-massage I experienced in Goa), and collapsed into snorty giggles again after a totally ridiculous ten minutes of complementary flip-flop swapping, we were swept away to various different treatment rooms where we oohed and ahhhed a happy hour away being pummeled into submission (or, in my case, being the only one that chose a facial, having my ‘congestion extracted’ – not pretty, I can tell you, but I glowed afterwards).

Stumbling blinking, and slightly greasily, into the dazzling sunshine once again, we stopped to cop a quick cheeky look at the wedding chapel (RANDOM DISNEY FACT: more than 2,600 couples get married at Walt Disney World every year) where Cinderella’s glass coach and powdery wigged footmen were in attendance:

And to have a good cackle when Laura pointed out that one of them had a rather-unDisney, porn-star bushy black moustache (sadly he was facing away from me). Oh, and we just had to grab a quick photo-op underneath the shady palms of the luscious white sandy beach:

Rather than ‘blogger down!’, this one was ‘blogger is running away and hiding so she never has to leave’. Tell you what, if I ever win the lottery, you’ll find me ensconced, counting my money, at the Grand Floridian and no mishtake. Off to the Grand Floridian Café for lunch, then, I was tempted by the pan-roasted Tilapia (sp?), just because I’d never heard of it, but settled in that ‘stomach thinks your throat’s been cut’ way that having something virtuous like a facial always makes me feel, for this little beauty:

…herb marinated chicken breast with cold smoked vine ripened tomatoes, cheddar, pesto mayonnaise and rocket, served on warm ciabatta. Oh and I had chips but Linda pinched them all.

The afternoon brought our first glimpse of The Magic Kingdom (more later!) where we caught our first jaw-dropping sight of Cinderella’s Castle, and sizzled, in a particularly white-skinned, European fashion, in the roasting sun :

(MORE RANDOM DISNEY FACTS: did you know that the Cinderella Castle is a whopping 189ft high and held together by 600 tons of steel? And did you also know that there are mice carved down the side of the castle? Thought not.) Oh and that’s Walt (brain not cryogenically frozen) Disney there in front of the castle.

Anyhoo, I defy even the most stone-hearted not to catch their breath. The thing is enormous. We amble past little shops, ice cream parlours and little bibbidi bobbidied princesses to whiz round some rides (nope – I’m not spilling – this is a food post – you’ll have to wait for the rides) and settled eventually at Tony’s at Toon Town Square (remember the little Italian restaurant from Lady and the Tramp?). Our waiter, the lovely Casey, makes us all feel like stars by taking the details of all our blogs (or alternatively, perhaps he was worried about what we’d write). Of course, I just had to order the spaghetti and meatballs, but Erica and Lulu completely spoiled it by refusing to do the spaghetti sharing thing with me. Party poopers.

So there we were. Fresh from the V-lounge at Gatwick where we drank complementary Innocent smoothies and nibbled free pastries. Child-free for an entire week. Sipping champagne. Nestled in our comfy seats with the pull-out footrest and the flip-out video screen. Our seats on the top deck of the Virgin Atlantic plane. In premium economy (oh yes, dahling, Disney upgraded us). Well, dear reader, we completely lost the plot. There was giggling. And quite a lot of ‘oh my God’, some snorty laughter, but mostly giggling.

So you know the story – bunch of ordinary extraordinary Mummy bloggers get invited on trip-of-a-lifetime to Walt Disney World where they stay in Deluxe Disney Resorts, visit all the others, get VIP tours round all the parks, sample all the best Disney restaurants and hobnob with the likes of Mickey and Daisy…

It happened. It really did. But it was actually better than that. My fellow bloggers were kind, sweet, ridiculously funny and raving alcoholics to boot. We had the time of our lives. I will bore you to death with this in more intricatenauseatingly mind-numbing detail, but I’ll leave you, for now, with my Disney top-ten moments:

Finding out that just because you go to Disney you don’t have to eat burgers and fries. I didn’t eat a burger the whole time. I ate meltingly tender steaks… the sweetest scallops… the crispest, spiciest calamari… the freshest red snapper… the most sumptuous desserts… oh I could go on. Well, I actually will go on. Just give me time.

Rediscovering the ability to actually be a bit of a kid again: I danced. I ate until I felt sick. I screamed on roller coasters. I ‘oohed’ and ‘ahhhed’ at lions and giraffes. I nearly wet my pants laughing when Laura fell over in the bus (‘blogger down!’). I got completely involved in American Idol and screeched like a lunatic when my favourite won. I got kissed by Chip ‘n’ Dale. I swam in azure waters. I laughed until I cried (in fact, I snorted uncontrollably, but that was because Linda was present).

My first glimpse of the Grand Floridian Hotel. There are no superlatives. They have speedboats on the lake for the guests. No, really.

Bursting into spontaneous tears watching the ‘Wishes’ firework display at The Magic Kingdom. And I wasn’t the only one.

Rushing up to a couple of newlyweds wearing ‘Groom’ and ‘Bride’ Mickey ears and asking to take their photos (I have no shame). Evidence to follow.

Visiting the Bibbidy Bobbidy Boutique where little girls can get a full Disney princess makeover (and later stumbling upon miniature princesses resplendent in full princess regalia tootling around the parks with their parents).

Sitting in total wonderment as a roomful of little kids sit in front of an aquarium and have a real conversation with Crush from ‘Finding Nemo’ – he answers their questions and everything!!! Awesome, Dude.

Resisting the urge to dive fully clothed into the enormous Melt-Away Bay – one whole acre of turquoise loveliness, complete with a rockin’ wave machine.

Taking part in some really extreme hotel testing: this involved cutting myself shaving (it was a bit of a gusher) and not knowing what to do with my bloody towels (blood’s just not really that Disney is it?) and leaving them piled in the bath like some sort of serial killer; Laura exploding a bottle of coke, sending sticky fountains of spray over our fellow Beach Club guests; Alice causing the coffee machine to sponaneously combust and coating her entire room in a fine layer of coffee and Linda nearly killing an entire family of chino-clad American guests with her toppling suitcase (they went over like dominos which was, of course, not in the remotest bit amusing).

Finding ourselves so totally and utterly dependent on the wondrous Sarah (or Mary Poppins as she became known) to the extent that whenever we found ourselves without her we were unable to function. Once, she stopped in the middle of the road to take a call and we all immediately ground to a halt next to her – risking life and limb like a band of happy lemmings. What will we do now we no longer have Sarah to shuffle along behind in a tight arrowhead formation?

Ah, happy memories. And much more to come. No, come back, I’ve only just started…

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